Vampire Dean
by theunluckybreak
Summary: What could have happened in episode 6x05. Dean want Sam and his blood.


Vampire Dean

Not really Wincest, but sorta implied Wincest. Weird babble that came to my mind. Maybe it sucks, I don't know. Just wanted to get it out of my head.  
Summary: What could have happened in episode 6x05. Dean want Sam and his blood.  
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Sam and Dean. Written purely for fun.

He was walking with slow, heavy steps. The look in his eyes had changed and he seemed darker. All just within a few hours.

Their knives were drawn, they watched every step he took, prepared for the worst.

"Did you feed?" Samuel asked.

Dean didn't trust him, he didn't even like him. He was a stranger, Dean didn't know him and he had no intention of getting to know him either.

"I went to say goodbye to Lisa", Dean said and stopped. He could hear their heartbeats, could hear their blood pumping in their veins. It was irresistible. It was his own blood, their family's blood.

The smell was intoxicating. "Which for the record was a lousy idea."

"Dean, answer the question!" Samuel spoke with a louder voice.

Dean wondered why Sam hadn't said anything yet, he was being strangely quiet. He turned to look at them and everything was unbearable. He already knew what he would do.

"You can relax, I didn't drink anyone."

"My God", Samuel said and relaxed.

"But I came close", Dean continued, driven by the smell.

Heartbeat, smell, blood. It was just one heartbeat that stood out and it wasn't his grandpa's.

His gaze shifted to Sam and he could see how he suddenly tensed up, knew something was wrong. Only Sammy knew him that good to know when something was really wrong with Dean.

This time there would be nothing they could do, not that Dean wanted to do anything about it right now. He just wanted to smell.

There was something in the back of his mind that was trying to edge up to the surface. Something was wrong. He had seen something, or maybe missed something. He didn't know what it was.

His grandpa may claim to be a great hunter, but Dean could already see the flaws. He wasn't prepared for what was coming.

Dean knew what he wanted and he would take it. For some reason he was sure Sam could feel that. Then why didn't he stop him now?

"But I don't want their blood", Dean said and didn't just talk about Lisa and Ben, he was talking about the whole world right now. Samuel looked confused, "I don't want your blood either", he continued and stared at his grandpa with dark eyes.

They shifted to Sam's eyes again, caught them and a few sentences was being said between them only by looking.

Samuel stared between them and seemed lost. "What are you talking about? What do you mean?"

Dean knew Sam saw no point in fighting because he had realized they wouldn't win.

By now it didn't matter that Sam was acting strangely or keeping things from him. It wasn't about that. Not right now. It wouldn't be about that.

With speed Dean was suddenly up next to Samuel, gripped his head and turned. It was so easy now, he could feel the added strength in every muscle.

His grandpa fell to the floor and Dean stared at Sam. He had still not said anything.

Dean was up close within seconds, Sam pushed up against the wall, and Dean didn't know if he had imagined it or not, but he was almost sure he had heard Sam's heart speed up a little.

But for now it remained in a steady rhythm and Dean wondered why.

"Why aren't you scared?" Dean asked, "I'm a monster, right, I could kill you."  
"You won't kill me", Sam said, voice calm and head resting back against the wall.

Dean considered, actually _considered_, the thought of killing his Sammy, just to prove his little brother wrong. But he didn't want to kill him, if he did the smell would end, the pumping would stop and the beats would never be heard again.

He had promised himself to stop, he wouldn't fully turn, but this was just too much. He couldn't resist it. He didn't want to resist it.

But he didn't buy what Sam said.

"I just killed Samuel and you're not freaking out, why?" he asked.

He should be angry at Sam, argue with him about acting strange and not care anymore. He should, but he won't.

"You're not yourself, that's why", Sam said impressively fast. Dean wondered if he had known the question was coming.

His hands gripped Sam's wrists and pushed them up against the wall. He didn't know if Sam would fight against him or not, he was almost sure he wouldn't, but something inside of him just screamed that he had to hold Sam still.

Green eyes fixed themselves on Sam's throat, right by the pulse, and just stared. They watched as his Adam's apple moved when he swallowed.

Dean moved closer.

Something inside his head was still itching. A quick look at Sam's lips and he new what it was. A smirk. Sam had smirked. He had smirked when Dean turned and now he knew why.

"You wanted me like this", he said and wondered if Sam would try and convince him the opposite.

But his little brother didn't answer and that told Dean more than words could.

"And now you'll pay for it", he continued.

"You won't kill me", Sam said again, so very sure.

It was driving Dean insane. Sam wasn't supposed to know him better than he himself did.

His nose was touching Sam's jaw and it wouldn't be long now. No turning back. Dean didn't want a turning back, he wanted Sam, he wanted his smell and his blood. He didn't want anything else.

He licked Sam's throat up and the taste was better than he had imagined. It was enough to stop his waiting. The grip on Sam's wrists tightened and Dean's teeth buried in his flesh.

His little brother didn't even make a sound. It was almost too much, the taste was too good, it satisfied him too much. Sammy's blood, _their blood_, flowed inside him, making him stronger, making him more alert. It felt like he was high on drugs and he didn't know how to stop.

He was sure nothing could taste better than this blood, Sam's blood. It was sweet and slick and had the perfect warmth. He let Sam's right wrist loose and slammed his own hand hard into the wall, making a hole. He growled deeply because it was too good, too _beautiful_, and it was _his_.

But then he suddenly pulled away, amazed to have found the strength, and he had to turn away to pull himself together again.

Sam took a few deep breaths, held his hand to the wound and stared at Dean. Nothing was said and a few moments later a towel was instead pressed to the wound and everything seemed to have moved back to normal.

It didn't matter that grandpa's dead body was lying on the floor, that their relatives would soon be after them, because _this right now_, Christian and the others didn't understand.

But Dean and Sam understood, and they didn't have to talk to each other to know what would happen next.

Dean didn't need explanations right now and Sam knew that. The only thing Sam could do was taking advantage of it. He had full responsibility of what he had done.

He would take care of Dean and give him his blood because that's what Dean wanted. And Sam needed someone on the inside.

He could easily spare some blood for this.

END


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